


other end of the line

by fragrances (lacquer)



Category: GOT7
Genre: (kinda), Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, F/F, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Tenderness, a surprising lack of anything to do with being secret agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:47:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24519460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacquer/pseuds/fragrances
Summary: “What’s wrong?” Jinyoung asks. Says, more like. It’s a statement. Jinyoung has been her handler for nearly a decade now, can read Jaebeom like an open book, whether they’re running an op or not.Jaebeom rolls over and makes a face at the ceiling. “Nothing.”“That sounds like something,” Jinyoung says. “Are you bleeding? Do you need me to call in Youngjae again?”For all that Jinyoung can see there’s something up, sometimes she misses the point entirely. “I’m fine,” Jaebeom says. And then, “I just miss you.”
Relationships: Im Jaebum | JB/Park Jinyoung
Comments: 9
Kudos: 46





	other end of the line

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lovefoolthatsme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovefoolthatsme/gifts).



> for every hag and haglet who has sprinted with me and/or thrown jjp my way, this one's for you. most especially almay though, you know what you did

The problem with being a secret agent, Jaebeom thinks to herself, is that it means never having enough time. For work, yes (the week-old bullet wound in her upper left arm testifies to her lack of time to dodge), but for love too.

Take now, for instance. 

Jaebeom is in some crappy motel, walls thinner than the pages of a telephone book, halfway around the world from home. More importantly, she’s halfway around the world from Jinyoung, though often the two are synonyms. Home being in Jinyoung’s arms. There’s no time to fly back before her next assignment, another month-long mission undercover. It’ll involve too many hours spent awake back to back. The fear of being caught like a hand at her throat, only Jinyoung’s voice in her ear to beat back the dark.

Quite frankly, it sucks. 

She hasn’t been awake for very long at all today, only enough to stumble to the bathroom and back. From her bed she can see just a sliver of sky, a hushed blue heralding dawn to come. With a sigh she taps the comm in her ear, letting whoever’s on the other end know she’s awake. She keeps the device in while she sleeps now, after a particularly harrowing incident last year involving an early morning kidnapping. The comm is smaller than her pinkie nail, and the corresponding transmitter attached to one of her back teeth is even smaller. Wonders straight from Yugyeom’s workshop.

“Awake already?” comes Jinyoung’s voice just a minute later, crystal clear. 

Jaebeom yawns in response. 

Part of her frowns at the fact that Jinyoung’s up, takes note. It’s near midnight where the other woman is, a time difference that made both of them uneasy during the last mission. Jaebeom doesn’t like it when Jinyoung wrecks her sleep schedule to keep up with wherever she is, and Jinyoung doesn’t like handing her over to some other handler for the hours she has to sleep. They compromise, but it doesn’t mean they don’t worry. “Yeah. You about ready to go to bed?”

“Soon,” Jinyoung says. There’s a clatter of keystrokes and then she swears. “Make that not so soon.”

A dart of adrenaline hits Jaebeom’s spine. “All clear?”

“Yeah.” Jinyoung sighs. “Mark just sent me another batch of reports though. I’ll have to stay a while longer to sort through them.”

At her words, Jaebeom relaxes. With a sigh of her own, she stretches, making sure to mind her left arm. The pull of her muscles unlocking after a long night asleep makes her shiver in pleasure, even as the sheets beneath her crease uncomfortably. It smells like stale water in here, and whatever perfume the last occupant had used, overly floral and nearly cloying. “Can’t they wait Jinyoungie? It’s late.”

Another few keystrokes come over the comm before Jinyoung speaks again. “Not these ones, unfortunately. We need them sorted before Jackson gets back on.”

“Mmm.” Jaebeom shoves her face into the pillow, trusting the mic to pick up on what she has to say. “Is he still working with Seunghyun-hyung?”

“In a manner of speaking.” Jinyoung’s voice is wry. “Even Seunghyun-hyung is having a hard time handling his reckless streak.”

For a moment, Jaebeom forgets that Jinyoung can’t see her, and nods, cheek pressing into the pillow. Proximity is just another kind of ghost, hovering inches out of Jaebeom’s reach. With her eyes closed, it’s as if Jinyoung is right here. It’s a second before she remembers to say anything out loud. “Good for him. Maybe Jackson will actually learn something.” 

Jinyoung laughs, quiet but bright. “Doubtful.”

“I’ll tell Jackson you said that,” Jaebeom says. She spends an indulgent moment just picturing her, most likely in her apartment, maybe in a hoodie. Jinyoung likes to take her socks off when she’s home and curl up with a blanket. When Jaebeom is on missions she makes coffee and when she’s not she makes tea.

“What’s he going to do? I’m not afraid of Jackson,” Jinyoung returns. She’s still working, the clatter of keystrokes echoing in Jaebeom’s right ear. Jaebeom can’t quite help the way her heart twinges at that. Despite how important their work is, she wants Jinyoung’s attention on her, not some stupid reports Mark sent over. Maybe it’s because of how important their work is. Jaebeom is still recovering from a gunshot wound, and Jinyoung will be going to sleep soon. In a couple of days, recovered or not, Jaebeom is going to be packed off on another flight and she won’t get to talk with Jinyoung like this for weeks.

“Maybe you should be,” Jaebeom says, but her heart isn’t in the conversation any more. It isn’t fair. She wants to be curled up with Jinyoung in her blanket, stealing sips of her tea. Longing wraps itself around her chest. Tugs.

Jinyoung must hear something in her voice, because the clatter of keystrokes stops. “Jaebeom?”

“What?” There’s a moment of pause and Jaebeom pushes her face harder into the pillow. 

“What’s wrong?” Jinyoung asks. Says, more like. It’s a statement. Jinyoung has been her handler for nearly a decade now, can read Jaebeom like an open book, whether they’re running an op or not. 

Jaebeom rolls over and makes a face at the ceiling. “Nothing.” 

“That sounds like something,” Jinyoung says. “Are you bleeding? Do you need me to call in Youngjae again?”

For all that Jinyoung can see there’s something up, sometimes she misses the point entirely. “I’m fine,” Jaebeom says. And then, “I just miss you.”

Jinyoung lets out a breath of air, slow. Jaebeom can nearly summon the sense memory of her, perfume like jasmine, notes of sea salt, skin warm beneath Jaebeom’s palm. “I miss you too. It’s only another month and we’ll be back together.”

“I know,” Jaebeom says, and falls silent. Her arm is aching again, not that the pain ever really went away. Shaking herself, she moves to get up. “Have you got anything new for the next mission?”

“Not yet,” Jinyoung says. “Hold on.” She hits a couple of keys in quick succession. 

“What’s up?” Jaebeom asks. She doesn’t sit up quite yet.

Jaebeom hears Jinyoung hum, and then there’s the little click of a private line being activated. It’s a feature of the comms that makes them near impossible to hack, and stops other people from the agency from listening in. Jinyoung had designed it herself. “Jinyoungie?”

“I’m still with you, you know. Even with an ocean between us.” Jinyoung’s voice dips into velvet, into honey. It’s focused in a way Jaebeom rarely hears outside an op, or outside the bedroom. It makes her want to both sit up straight and also relax all the way into her pillows. 

“I know that,” Jaebeom returns. She pouts a little, even if Jinyoung can’t see it. “I just haven’t seen you since last month.”

She’s not sure what she’s expecting Jinyoung to say in return, but it certainly isn’t, “Do you trust me?”

“What kind of a question is that? Of course I do,” Jaebeom says. She has trusted Jinyoung on every mission they’ve ever been on, running through burning buildings with nothing but Jinyoung’s voice as a guide. She trusts—when nothing else seems solid in a mission, when everything is going to shit—that Jinyoung will guide her safely through it all. A voice in her ear, nothing but words to point her true. But it’s Jinyoung. That’s enough. It’s always been enough.

Jinyoung hums again. “Then close your eyes.” Jaebeom does so. “I’m with you right now, ok? Right beside you. If I was there, the bed would dip just a little. We’d wake up together because you’re a terrible cuddler and like to steal the sheets.”

Jaebeom flings a forearm over her eyes. “So far this is just making me sad.”

“Shhh,” Jinyoung says in return. “If I was there, I’d kiss you.” The words are hesitant almost. A nearly unbearable tenderness rises within Jaebeom like a cresting wave. Despite how long they’ve been together, Jinyoung still catches herself up on things like this sometimes. The beginning, at least. Once she's settled in, that's a different story. 

Jinyoung has gotten very, _very_ good at talking Jaebeom through anything over the past decade.

“I’d kiss you too,” Jaebeom says, loose and lazy. She’s starting to get what Jinyoung is aiming towards, a slow curl of interest rising in her stomach. “You have a very kissable mouth.”

“Are you in bed right now?” Jinyoung asks, because she’s organized, wants to double check. Anything from missions to seducing her girlfriend across an ocean, Jinyoung makes sure everything is right where she wants it.

Jaebeom nods even if Jinyoung can’t see it. It feels important, somehow, to complete the action. Like she’s acknowledging an invisible Jinyoung in the room, like Jinyoung can actually see the gesture. “Yeah I am, what about you?” She’s hungry for the answer, for any scrap of Jinyoung that she can hoard here, so far away from home.

“I’m at my desk,” Jinyoung replies. “The apartment is finally a normal temperature now that you’re not here.” Jaebeom laughs. It’s an old argument, worn out of all malice. Jaebeom likes the apartment warm, Jinyoung keeps it cool to save power and compensates with layers. “I’m wearing the blanket you got me three years ago, the fluffy blue one.”

With her eyes closed, Jaebeom has no trouble picturing it. The computer light gently illuminating the curve of Jinyoung’s neck, the way her hair would be tucked in a messy bun. “I should get you another one before I come back,” she says. “Winters have been getting colder.” Without really thinking about it, her right hand traces up and down her stomach, rucking up her sleep shirt.

“This one is fine,” Jinyoung says. “How about you focus.”

“Focus on what?” Jaebeom can’t quite help teasing, even as her hand inches higher, the pad of her thumb brushing against the swell of her breast through her bra.

“Unnie,” Jinyoung’s voice is exasperated. Fond, too. Far too sweet when she says, “Focus on me.”

“I am, I am,” Jaebeom assures her. She always is. “What else?”

For a moment, Jinyoung pauses. Jaebeom waits for her to collect her thoughts, her wandering hand shoving her bra up and out of the way. “Is your shirt still on? Take it off."

Jaebeom huffs out a laugh. “How romantic Jinyoungie.”

“Oh I’m sorry," Jinyoung returns. She’s trying to keep her tone flat, but it rises inexorably at the edges, summer wine on the tongue. Jaebeom wants to kiss it out of her mouth. “Should I have asked what color it was first?”

“Sure,” Jaebeom says. “I’ll go first, what color’s your shirt?”

“I’m not wearing a shirt,” Jinyoung says. She laughs when Jaebeom takes a breath of surprise. “I’m wearing your hoodie, the grey one.”

“Dangerous,” Jaebeom gets out. She knows the piece of clothing Jinyoung is referencing, three sizes too big, gone through the wash so many times its cuffs are fraying. 

With a sigh, she settles back further into bed, listening to Jinyoung’s voice hum through her right ear. “No that’s you,” Jinyoung says. “What color’s your shirt?”

“White,” Jaebeom answers. “I got it at the tourism agency across the street. There’s flower print involved.” 

Jinyoung groans, mostly in exasperation, momentarily diverted. “Please take it off. Are you going to bring it back with you?”

“Still debating it,” Jaebeom says honestly. She has a bit of a collection back in their apartment, a drawer full of the tackiest slogans she can find around the world. It’s a tradition by now. After every successful mission, she gets herself stitched up and goes shopping in the nearest store for the worst t-shirt possible. Some people collect scars. Jaebeom collects bad t-shirts. She wears them like armor on days when everything feels awful, every cotton blend marking a time she didn’t die. The one she’s wearing now gets shimmied off, thrown to the floor where the decorative comforter rests. “You’d take it off me, right?”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung says. “We’d have all the time in the world. I’d put my tongue on you everywhere, watch you come apart slowly.”

Jaebeom can feel her face gradually flushing red, down over her collarbones. Even years into their relationship, Jinyoung’s voice still touches a flame within her, makes her... not embarrassed exactly, but shy. Pleased in a way that has her squirm. “Oh yeah?” she says, except it’s breathless.

She’s starting to get wet, pressing her thighs together as Jinyoung continues, her voice stroking down Jaebeom’s nerves warmly. “When you get back I’m going to sit my face between your legs for an hour, just to hear you scream.”

“You—” Jaebeom says. “ _Baby._ ” 

“Yeah?” Jinyoung says, and she doesn’t sound entirely composed herself, which makes Jaebeom feel better.

“I’m going to make them give us an entire week off when I get back,” she says. “Screw missions. We’ll be able to sleep in for once.” Her right hand sneaks into her sleeping shorts, applying gentle pressure to the ache between her legs through her panties.

Jinyoung sighs. “God, yeah. For once we’ll make Mark deal with anything that comes up.”

“What do you want to do when I’m home?” Jaebeom tries to ask it casually, but the words come out rough despite herself. 

Jinyoung is quiet for a second. “We’re going out to brunch. Not the cafe down the corner, but nice brunch, the type that gives you cloth napkins.” 

Jaebeom can feel a smile dancing around the corners of her mouth even as her breathing picks up. “Oh yeah? Tell me about the tea service, Jinyoungie.” 

The com fritzes with Jinyoung’s laughter. She pauses for a moment. Jaebeom’s fingers push the cotton of her panties aside, fingers rubbing slowly over herself. She keeps it loose, pleasure a slow build. “I looked up some places yesterday, how do you feel about scones?”

“Whatever you want,” Jaebeom says. “If you want scones, let’s do scones.”

“Good,” Jinyoung says. “It’s a date.” There’s a hitch of her breath over the comm, and Jaebeom shivers.

“What are you doing over there?”

Jinyoung makes a little _ah_ noise in the back of her throat. “I’m in the office chair, I took off my pants.”

Jaebeom’s mouth goes dry, picturing Jinyoung at her mission desk, dressed in nothing but Jaebeom’s old sweatshirt. “You sound so good, baby. I bet you’d be so sweet. I want to kiss you.”

“Want to kiss you too,” Jinyoung says, her voice strung tight. Jaebeom’s entire body shivers at that, desire like sunlight pooling in her stomach. She feels warm and taut, floating in the safety of Jinyoung’s voice. She props her hips up and scoots her sleeping shorts down, along with her panties, careful of the knife strapped to her right leg.

Her fingers find her clit, reaching down to run through the slickness between her thighs before coming back up, the glide smoother. It feels good, and she says as much to Jinyoung, drawing slow, deep breaths. “I’m so wet for you. Wish you were here.”

The words are meant to tease, and they work; Jaebeom can hear Jinyoung’s teeth click together, a quick breath coming over the comm. She grins, another wave of warmth washing through her. There’s never anything so pleasing as knowing she’s affecting Jinyoung as well as herself. With her left hand, she reaches up to tease at one of her breasts, thumb rolling over her nipple. Her bullet wound briefly sears, pain making itself known, but Jaebeom ignores it until it becomes just another bright point of sensation, set against the desire licking up her spine. 

“I wish you were here too,” Jinyoung says, voice wrapping itself around Jaebeom’s heart. “I’ve wanted you back since that stupid firefight in the mezzanine. I want you.”

“Yes,” Jaebeom pants, reaching down to push a finger into herself. The intrusion feels good, makes her nearly whine. She rocks it in and out, wet enough that it’s no stretch at all to add a second. “Tell me what you’re doing?”

“Mmmm,” Jinyoung says. “I’m touching myself. Just two fingers, imagining it was you.”

Jaebeom has to bite down a pang of disappointment even as she rubs her clit with the palm of her hand, searching for more friction. She wishes it was her, too. More wetness drips around the stretch of her fingers, making indecent noises. “I’m here, I’m here.”

The image is intoxicating, imagining Jinyoung here, replacing her fingers with her own. Jinyoung, flushed beneath her. Carefully, Jaebeom speeds up her fingers, nudging up against her walls with the pads. All the breath leaves her at once, and she squirms against the sheets. 

They float there in that space, Jaebeom listening to the noises Jinyoung is making over the comm, high little _ah ahs,_ that make her clench around the intrusion of her fingers. Sparks sweep up her spine, molten warmth pooling all over, making her tremble.

Jinyoung is the one to move first, a little sigh escaping her throat. “I’m close, unnie.”

“Then come for me,” Jaebeom says, slowing her fingers and listening to Jinyoung’s breathing pick up for a second and then come out as a moan. 

“Jaebeom,” is all she says, bare name reaching out. It makes Jaebeom ache in the worst way, has her shutting her eyes even tighter. 

“I’m right here,” Jaebeom says. “Right here, right here.” The sounds of her, of Jinyoung coming to pieces, lights a forest fire in Jaebeom. She pulls out her fingers to circle them around her clit again, quicker this time, attention caught on Jinyoung’s every breath.

“How are you doing?” Jinyoung asks.

Unwittingly, Jaebeom spreads her thighs a little farther apart, as if to make space for an imaginary Jinyoung between them. “Good,” she says, pulling out the word like taffy. There’s something knotted in her stomach, pleasure heavy on her tongue. “So good.”

“Are you close?” Jinyoung asks, and her voice is the loveliest thing Jaebeom has ever heard.

“Yes— Jinyoungie,” Jaebeom’s voice breaks halfway through her name, and her spine tenses all the way down.

“I’m here,” Jinyoung says in return, still a little breathy. “I’m here, you can let go unnie.”

And Jaebeom does, pleasure snapping through her body, the whole world going dark and liquid. Jinyoung talks to her the whole way through. Words a constant reassurance, almost as if they’re running an op. “You sound so nice. Wish I was there to help you through it, clean you up with my mouth. You’re always so sensitive like this, so beautiful.” 

“Mmmmm,” Jaebeom says back, because that’s all she really feels capable of right now. There’s a spark burning deep within her that says she could go again, but mostly she wants to curl up underneath the covers and go back to bed. Preferably with Jinyoung in her arms.

In her ear, Jaebeom hears a yawn. Slowly, a sense of time begins to seep back in. It’s probably past midnight where Jinyoung is, the sun long since set. “Do me a favor?” Jaebeom asks.

“What?”

“Go to bed.” Jaebeom tries to make it as firm as possible, straightening out her voice through the satisfaction currently rendering her boneless. “You can ask Bambam to help you with those reports in the morning. I bet Jackson and Seunghyun-hyung can wait.”

Jinyoung clicks her tongue, but the yawn she lets out a second later is loud. “I shouldn’t rely on the rest of the crew to pick up my slack like that.”

“You’ve been working hard. This isn’t the first time this week you’ve been up when I woke up.” Jaebeom pulls out the big guns. “The next assignment is soon, we should both be well rested for it.”

If Jaebeom was in the same room as her, she could read Jinyoung’s body language like a well-worn book. As it is, all she gets is a slow hiss of air over her comm. Then Jinyoung says, “You’re right. I’ll take a shower and go to bed.” It’s reluctant, but not by too much. They both know how to take care of themselves on their down time. Sometimes it just takes a little reminder.

“Good,” Jaebeom replies, contentment rolling down her spine in a wave. She exhales, letting her body lose a little more tension. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

A few final keystrokes and the click of a laptop shutting. Jinyoung’s voice in her ear, clear as flowing water. “I’ll see you in the afternoon.”

Jaebeom smiles into her pillow. Just before Jinyoung clicks off the private line Jaebeom says, “Sleep well.”

“I will,” Jinyoung says, words soft. Jaebeom can hear when the line turns back over to the one all the handlers have access to. There’s someone on the other end, but it’s no longer Jinyoung.

Jaebeom turns towards the window again, eyes fluttering shut. Dawn is rising syrupy and perfect above the horizon. She clutches her extra pillow to her chest and breathes in deep. Soon, she’ll be able to return home. In the meantime, it’s just a call away.

**Author's Note:**

> if you want to chat, i'm on twitter/cc @lavenderim
> 
> i'd love it if you left a comment!


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